


I've Taken a Hit (My Lungs are Filled with Sand)

by Emma_Please



Series: In Flight, We Prevail [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Zuko (Avatar), This is just exposition, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, brief flashback to when he was a child, making up shit about the spirit world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Please/pseuds/Emma_Please
Summary: Agni grins once more. “Did you forget, young Zuko? You have The Spirit of the Sun before you, the creator of all firebenders. I, the master of all masters, will teach you.”Or in which Agni drops some truth bombs, Zuko trains, and some things remain secret.
Relationships: (mentioned only), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko and Agni, Zuko and Iroh (mentioned only)
Series: In Flight, We Prevail [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764784
Comments: 21
Kudos: 481





	I've Taken a Hit (My Lungs are Filled with Sand)

_ Zuko is six and far too unhappy with the current state of the palace for him to feel anything but lonely. Uncle Iroh is in a meeting with father and grandfather, which means that Zuko will not get to see him until far later in the evening and it is only late morning currently. Lu Ten is entranced with little Azula, which is all well and good but Zuko’s a child who feels as if he’s being pushed aside for the newest best thing. And even for as hard as he looks, Zuko can never seem to find his mother. She’s his favorite person in his admittedly small world and she isn’t here, and he feels unbalanced- the strange clogged feeling in his throat isn’t exactly helping matters either.  _

_ He can’t even ask anyone in the palace either- they’ll give him that pitying look that Zuko can never quite understand (they give mother that look too but with her, it seems to hold more contempt than anything). Eventually, he settles for sitting next to the pond and tries not to feel ashamed at the thought that the only ones who seem to prefer his company at the moment are the turtle ducks. They linger at the edge of the water, just close enough to quack sharply at Zuko in greeting. He knows they expect bread but the kitchens were too crowded for him to pass through unnoticed so Zuko had decided to let it go. In response to them, he shrugs, picking at the grass aimlessly.  _

_ The clogged feeling in his throat has yet to go away but it’s become such a familiar sensation that Zuko has learned to live with it. He gets this feeling most often when he’s in the presence of his father. The man looms over him and unlike Zuko’s mother, who bends her knees and gets down to his level, father never looks at Zuko when he addresses his firstborn. Their relationship is strange (Zuko is too young to know that none of this is normal, that fathers shouldn’t ignore their child, that fathers shouldn’t ignore your very existence because you’re a disgrace-).  _

_ Sometimes, in his most secret of thoughts, Zuko wishes uncle Iroh were his father instead. At least the man has no issue with returning Zuko’s stare.  _

_ “Zuko, there you are!” A voice calls out sharp in relief.  _

_ The boy in question twists around, feeling his lips wobble at the sight of his beloved mother. In a few strides, she’s knelt beside him, arms wound tight around his trembling form as he clutches at her royal clothing. When her fingers card through his hair Zuko sniffles, attempting to stifle his tears into her shoulder. He’s uncertain as to why he’s crying but the wretched feeling he’s been dealing with all day has made itself unignorable at the sight of her.  _

_ “What’s wrong, my little dragon?” His mother asks, her voice but a whisper. Her warm breath ruffles his hair as he burrows further into her hug, seeking out comfort. Despite knowing it’s ridiculous, Zuko feels a slight sting of betrayal in the fact that she has only just searched him out, whereas he has been looking everywhere for her all day.  _

_ “I’m lonely,” He replies. “Lu Ten is with Azula, and it’s not like I have any friends to play with. None of the other kids like me.” He notices how his mother stiffens, can feel the way her body begins to shake, and the ever-present warmth he feels from her dims slightly, stifled beneath a blanket of something that seems to have been bothering his mother for a long time. Her emotions are sometimes so easy to pick up on, some part of Zuko’s brain cataloging her every expression and the cadence of her voice. His senses take him over and in her presence, he feels at peace (in father’s presence he feels the ache in his gums throb and spike).  _

_ “And why wouldn’t they like you?” His mother questions and Zuko can almost feel the rage coiling in her gut.  _

_ “Because I wasn’t born during the day,” Zuko says, easy as can be as if it is normal to be shunned by your peers simply because of the time of day your birth took place. But the Fire Nation takes its traditions and beliefs seriously and if there is true merit behind them, Zuko should be dead. “Why aren’t I dead?” He asks curiously.  _

_ His mother sighs and doesn’t release him. Her silence speaks volumes to Zuko- she is remembering his birth most likely; her warmth always seems to flicker like a campfire when she does so. Zuko doesn’t know the circumstances behind his birth but he knows the story is far more complicated than everyone has been led to believe.  _

_ “When you were born,” She begins. “You didn’t scream or cry, and we all thought you were dead. Everyone else had expected it because it was so late at night and it was so dark, and you know what happens to babies who are born under the moon, don’t you, Zuko?”  _

_ Zuko nods gravely. “Agni takes them to rest in the sun so that they may feel true warmth.” _

_ “Exactly. Well, I wasn’t ready to give you up so I prayed to Agni, I begged for your life, and Agni listened to my pleas and he brought you back. But because it was he who had given you life, Zuko, you belong to him.”  _

_ “But you’re still my mama,” Insists Zuko, little hands reaching upwards to cradle her face in his small palms. His mother smiles but it’s brittle and not as bright.  _

_ “I am,” She agrees. “Of course I’m your mother but you are something more, Zuko. You are Agni’s chosen, and you are mine to love but you are not mine to keep.” Her voice wavers like his own earlier, and Zuko recognizes that she’s holding back tears because she doesn’t want him to see so he buries his face into her shoulder and lets her cry into his hair. Zuko isn’t sure he understands what she means but the grief that wells up inside of her is genuine and so he figures it must be something truly heartbreaking.  _

“So it seems your mother didn’t keep everything from you.”

Zuko remembers that day, those words, and has often mulled over them in the nights after his mother’s disappearance. He swipes his tongue over his lips and tries to ignore the absolutely horrid taste in his mouth. Nothing makes sense, and although Zuko is older now he still cannot comprehend how he could be Agni’s chosen. 

“I let you live,” Agni speaks, slinking closer to Zuko. “I heard your mother’s prayer and I looked upon your soul and found you worthy. You were perfect- the grandson of Avatar Roku and Firelord Sozin.” Zuko startles briefly, having not known that. “You were born from such opposing ideologies and yet the path of your future was always so straightforward, always so blunt. I needed a human conduit, a prophet if you will, and I had finally found one whose soul could resist the temptation of eternal peace within the sun.” 

“That still doesn’t explain what I’m doing here,” Zuko says, mustering up enough courage to raise his eyes from the ground to meet Agni’s once more. The great spirit is watching him keenly as if Zuko’s soul is laid bare before it and it is trying to find discrepancies. 

“You were not supposed to arrive in the spirit until much, much later. Contrary to popular belief, young Zuko, we great spirits cannot bring the dead back to life without an exchange of some sort being made. In exchange for your life, your soul belongs to me and in belonging to me, you are not quite as human as you should be.” Agni lowers its giant head, coiling its body slowly around Zuko to form a barrier. He's stuck still, breathless. The power that thrums beneath every shift of the dragon’s muscles is overwhelming. “I did not think you needed to arrive for many more years but you killed Zhao and if I had left you in the human world he would have been the first of many to fall prey to your hunger.”

“I-” Zuko stutters, the words faltering in his mouth. He rallies. “Why did I kill him? How did I kill him?  _ What am I? _ ”

“You are like me,” Agni grins, and one whisker reaches forward to graze upon the wound on Zuko’s neck. “When Zhao knelt you down and slit your throat, you let go of all your inhibitions. The demon in you, the  _ dragon  _ in you was finally free.” 

“Why can’t I remember any of this, then?” Zuko demands, as the whisker coils around his throat, a surprisingly grounding if terrifying touch. “Why can’t I remember what happened with Zhao and my ship and uncle?” 

Agni tosses its head as if to bat away the questions. “I would not worry if I were you. You’ll remember in time- for now, your brain would rather prefer not to. Your mental stability is under too much pressure to deal with the strain of understanding something that is far beyond your comprehension.” 

“And uncle- is uncle okay?” The question is quiet as Zuko does his best to tamp down all of the worrying scenarios he has thought up in his head. 

“That is a difficult question,” Agni says, and Zuko feels his lungs stop and his heart skips a beat. “Physically, he is fine. Emotionally, he has been wrecked beyond belief for he thinks you are dead. I would not worry too much, young Zuko, Iroh is strong enough to weather this storm and he is living a, for the most part, peaceful life.” 

All Zuko feels is relief, that Iroh isn’t hurt, and then confusion because, “What do you mean by ‘a peaceful life’?” He knows that if uncle thinks he’s dead  _ (and oh how it breaks him, guilts him, to think that uncle lost him just as he had lost Lu Ten-)  _ he’ll have to go back to the Fire Nation and report to father. And knowing Ozai, the man will not allow his brother to stray far from him, certainly not when paranoia blooms thoughts of a coup d’état into his mind. Uncle Iroh will never leave peacefully in the Fire Nation, not after everything the country and its ruler has taken from him. “Is he in the Fire Nation?”

Agni’s golden eyes are piercing and hypnotizing as it assesses Zuko; there is something there, behind its gaze, that speaks of ancient wisdom and righteous anger. “No,” The great spirit murmurs at last. “Your uncle is not in the Fire Nation but his whereabouts remain a mystery to me.”

Zuko wants to question, to push, but Agni’s countenance has changed to something dangerous, something impatient. The dragon shakes out its entire body, causing sand to go flying like tiny golden glitters. The rain is still falling silently around them as Agni speaks once more, “Two years have passed, both in the spirit world and in the real world,” and Zuko feels as though the breath has been stolen from him. 

_ Two years?  _

“What?” Zuko chokes out, swaying forward in disbelief. “No, it can’t have been- it’s only been a couple of hours!” 

Agni breathes out a sigh, its breath ruffling Zuko’s wild hair, as it says, “Zuko, you do not remember but you were lost at sea for a long time and so I went and spoke to La, who agreed to bring you into the spirit for I could not do so at the time. La was not pleased but even they cannot interfere with what it is to be. When you showed up into the spirit world, you washed up upon the shore and I took over from there. I guided you here but you were so weak, so sea stricken that your inner flame had dimmed considerably. I stoked the fire back to full strength and woke you up so that you would make the climb.” 

Zuko shivers, pictures himself out in open waters, wonders what happened to him in these past two years that he cannot remember. “Why didn’t you just lead me up the mountain like you did before?” 

The dragon uncoils itself from Zuko to slink in front of him and lay down. Agni’s form is so monstrous that even when lying down, the top of Zuko’s head only reaches its nose. Great big golden eyes peer down at him before flicking up to look at the darkened sky. The rain patters off of Agni’s thick scales, the sound consistent and comforting. 

“You had to make the climb, Zuko.” This is the most solemn Zuko has seen Agni this entire time. “You needed to make that climb, to navigate through the darkness of that cave, to fall through the sky- you needed to do all of that to come back to yourself and then only having done so could I give you your task. And Zuko, do not worry, those two years will come back to you eventually.”

He swallows down the questions he wants to ask, the ones that bubble up in his lungs and throat, the ones that make him feel like a child once more. Instead, Zuko forces his gaze ahead and asks, unceremoniously, “What task?” 

“The Fire Nation has gone astray,” Agni says bluntly, making no mention of the way Zuko’s mouth falls open in shock. “They have gone astray and yet they use my name to push forward their agendas as if I condone their  _ worthless  _ actions. I am furious, Zuko,” Agni’s eyes are so luminescent Zuko thinks he can see a raging forest fire in them, something destructive and animalistic that speaks of Agni’s true nature. He is pinned to place when Agni looks upon him once more. “Make no mistake- I could bring heinous suffering and make them acknowledge their faults. I could teach these so-called disciples of mine why not to take my name in vain. But violence only spawns more violence, Zuko, and this war has lasted long enough. My anger will lead me astray, and both Tui and La have agreed that they too suffer from the same issue. It is not up to us to make this right, we are not the ones who have the power to do so.” 

Agni’s whisker trails forward and touches Zuko’s chest, right above his beating heart. If possible, the dragon’s eyes soften, and when it speaks once more the anger has vanished. “The Avatar awoke recently, in the real world, but he is young and his path will not be kind to him, certainly not where the mastery of firebending is concerned. You have been burned once, Zuko,” The whisker trails up to gently touch his scar. Zuko is surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt but he supposes two years is enough time for it to have healed. “Slowly but surely you learned to overcome your fear of the flame- it is still there but you understand now that your flame is your breath. You rise with the sun, you rise with  _ me _ .” 

“You want me to teach the Avatar how to firebend,” Zuko states rather than asks, eyebrows lifting in skepticism. “How am I supposed to do that when I never even finished my schooling?” 

Agni grins once more. “Did you forget, young Zuko? You have The Spirit of the Sun before you, the creator of all firebenders. _I_ , the master of all masters, will teach you.” 

Looking at Agni’s pleased face, Zuko gulps and wonders if he has any say in this. The answer is probably ‘no’ considering Agni had told him earlier that Zuko essentially belonged to the great spirit. 

Training with Agni is nothing like Zuko thought it would be. The great spirit is patient but firm, coiling itself around him and rumbling instructions. Zuko shows Agni his forms, the ones his old tutors had taught him and is confused when the spirit scoffs, bending low until its nose is almost touching Zuko’s chest. 

“I will teach you the Dance of the Dragon,” Agni says and there is something like joy in its voice. “I will teach you the original form of firebending that I and the dragons taught thousands of years ago, to the very first of your kind.” 

And so Zuko learns and he dances with Agni, the monstrous dragon’s form striking against the sky as they move through the steps fluidly, something instinctive and familiar taking hold of Zuko’s limbs.  _ I know this,  _ he thinks _ , because it must be the dragon part of him that feels such a keen relation to this form of firebending.  _

_ Zuko sees it, sometimes, serpentine figures of all sizes and colors, dancing elegantly yet fiercely with one another. It is bonding, it is an intuitive understanding and fullness that leaves his chest pleasantly warm. It is the fire in the hearth of the home and it is the raging devastation of a volcano that rips through the world like a knife through skin. He pictures it; a dragon’s hide is strong but not impenetrable and even they bleed a deep red, just like those wretched humans. Killed by the very beings they lent their flame to.  _

Eventually, after he has learned everything else, after he has ground his bones to dust and knocked his body into the sand enough times to leave a smattering of tiny imprints, Agni bestows upon him the knowledge of lightning. Zuko has seen uncle Iroh bend lightning before and even now he can remember the rapture he had felt, the connection to the violently crackling electric blue. Lightning is not like fire- it is difficult, untamable, impartial to anything but its own desires. 

Agni tells him that lightning is not something to be harnessed but rather something to be listened to. “You must feel it,” Agni says, “in your fingertips and the soles of your feet, in your lungs and in your bones, in every tendon and in every muscle. If you do not listen to it, young Zuko, it has a nasty habit of turning on you and ripping you apart from the inside out.” 

Zuko figures that this is why uncle Iroh is so adept at lightning bending- uncle is good at listening, at keeping his mind calm and peaceful and his emotions centered. Zuko himself was never at peace back then, his mind always in a constant state of turmoil, anger and fear, and shame eating him up inside. Now though, he’s better, although he is not entirely sure if that is because of Agni’s teachings or because the spirit world has a bad habit of messing with the mind. Despite it all, the first time he calls upon the lightning his nerves come alight, and for a second Zuko feels like his senses are muffled, like something is ripping his limbs apart, but Agni’s words reemerge once more and Zuko  _ listens.  _

Listening to it is unlike anything Zuko has ever done- the lightning crackles yes, but with the raising of pitch Zuko can almost hear the twittering of birds, a whole flock of them, rising up in tandem. The power is so sharp, so precise, Zuko is reminded of his dao swords, of being a young boy under Master Piandao’s tutelage, learning to forget the separation between his body and the blades. 

_ “Your brain must recognize the sword as just another limb, as something to be controlled on instinct. Hesitation will get you killed.”  _

Lightning is much the same and Zuko practices for as long as he can even though he knows that months could be passing by in the human world. Agni’s gaze is a heavyweight upon his shoulders, expecting and knowing, and while the dragon never says so Zuko knows that time is dwindling, that sooner or later Agni will have to catch this training short and send him off to do as he has been ordained. This strange dessert is bright even at night, hundreds of stars splayed across inky blue, and sometimes, when they stop for a break, Agni takes to the sky, a golden star amongst the mysteries of the galaxy. Zuko feels grief pang sharply through his chest and wistfully stares up at the neverending expanse above him, his back twisting in pain because he _wants to fly so badly._

One night, Agni goes up and doesn’t come back down- Zuko waits for hours, not particularly worried, at least not until the sun gleams back into existence and Zuko is left alone for the first time. Without Agni’s sheer presence, the space is stifling and empty, and Zuko suffers through bouts of paranoia, constantly looking behind and expecting to see large golden eyes. There is nothing there. The entire day passes by and night dawns once more. Zuko sits against a sand dune, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the granules pressing into his skin. He runs his hand through his shaggy hair, a feeling he’s still getting used to after years sporting a top knot and tries desperately not to feel like he’s been abandoned all over again  _ (mother in everything he sees-)  _

Eventually, just as he’s nodding off to sleep, Agni whips through the still air, landing in front of Zuko with a tremendous earthquake. Sand flies about wildly and Zuko scrambles up, shielding his eyes. When it’s all over, when the ground ceases its rumbling, Agni gets right in his face and speaks. 

“The time has come, young Zuko.” Agni’s voice reminds Zuko of the trembling of ancient volcanoes. “You will go and guide the Avatar through the true ways of firebending. You will be my prophet and spread my message.” 

  
Zuko fumbles, wanting to protest, but Agni’s composure has been shaken for some reason and so he remains silent. Quickly, Agni drops something into his palm and sweeps him up, and then they are soaring,  _ ascending _ . Stars burn and melt together and Zuko loses himself once more. His eyes drift shut but the light and the colors never leave. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just want everyone to keep in mind that I have not watched legend of Korra and that I have not read avatar so I know very little. It's also been a while since I've watched the series. Some of you had questions of Iroh and those will be answered in p.III as it is in his p.o.v. Thank you for all the kudos, bookmarks, and wonderful comments. I'm doing this for fun so updates might be sporadic but my interest in this hasn't waned. Some things (Zhao, Agni, all the agendas) might not make sense now but they will eventually. 
> 
> not proofread gonna go back in tomorrow because it's late at night now and I need to sleep.


End file.
